


The Principle of It

by abriata



Category: Social Network (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Boarding School, Authority Figures, M/M, TSN week, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-09
Updated: 2012-07-09
Packaged: 2017-11-09 12:32:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/455493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abriata/pseuds/abriata
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wherein Eduardo is going to hell and Mark gets beat up a lot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Principle of It

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for Kink Bingo prompt "authority figures" and (belatedly) for TSN Week "High School/Boarding School AU."

Eduardo is one hundred percent certain there's a special place in Hell for people like him. "Good afternoon," he says, smiling as he opens the door to Mark's knock.

"Hi," Mark says flatly, eyes on the floor as he shuffles into Eduardo's office.

He slumps into the chair in front of Eduardo's desk, dropping his backpack on the floor with a thump. Eduardo takes a deep breath to steel himself as he shuts the door quietly.

Pasting on another smile, he turns around. "How are you?"

He already has his answer, sort of. The side of Mark's cheek is turning dark with a bruise. Eduardo sighs before he can stop himself. "Oh, Mark. Again?"

Contrarily, Mark smiles.

Eduardo steps closer. "Have you been to see the nurse?"

Mark tilts his head to allow Eduardo easier access as he reaches out. He's still smiling. "No. She can't do anything but give me ice and painkillers. I can get both of those myself."

Eduardo rubs his fingers over the side of Mark's face. His skin is smooth and warm from the bruise. "Have you actually gotten either of those?"

Mark shakes his head. "No," he says.

Eduardo drops his hand, stepping back and leaning over his desk. He keeps ibuprofen in the top drawer, and between students and his own headaches, it gets a lot of use. He shakes two out and holds them out to Mark.

Mark makes no move to take them, staring unimpressed at Eduardo.

"Take them," Eduardo says, trying to sound stern. He sets them on the edge of the desk in front of Mark. "I'll go get you ice."

The nurse's office is one floor up and down at the end of the hall. Eduardo makes the trek more often than he'd like to, escorting or retrieving students.

To be honest, he does it the most often for Mark. Mark had been a new student the same year Eduardo had joined the faculty, fresh out of college and new to teaching. Every student is assigned a mentor, and a scheduling error had given him Eduardo, though normally they wouldn't put a new teacher with a new student. The rest of Eduardo's students had been upperclassmen, but he and Mark had fumbled through their first years together.

Eduardo had thought it had gone terribly – Mark barely spoke to him, got into fights all the time, and refused to participate in anything – but Mark had requested him the next year and Eduardo had started to reevaluate his opinion of Mark. He was a skinny, antisocial, unpopular, unhappy kid, Eduardo had thought, who had no use for the school's elaborate, antiquated traditions, of which Eduardo's role was one.

Once Mark requested him again, it seemed all of that was still true, but Mark at least considered him a lesser evil. Eduardo had starting warming to him and their second year had gone much better. Mark had gotten involved on campus, and started overtaking everyone in his classes, and generally seemed to be happier. Instead of coming only grudgingly to the mandatory once-weekly mentor meetings, he would drop by Eduardo's office a couple of times a week with a question or complaint or even just looking for a place to store his bag during fencing practice so the other boys wouldn't fuck with it.

Because that was the one thing that didn't change one bit: the fighting. Though Eduardo did figure out it was less _fighting_ and more bullying. Mark had admitted it one day when Eduardo had threatened to send him to the headmaster, but he's _never_ told Eduardo who does it. He'd said once, wry, that the only way to guarantee it _won't_ improve is to get them caught. It would turn most of the other boys against him, because despite strict anti-bullying policies, it still happens, and nobody likes a narc.

But Eduardo worried until Mark had grinned too brightly at him one day and sworn he was getting them back in his own way. Eduardo knows Mark well enough to believe him wholeheartedly. Mark really can handle himself.

Now, Eduardo still worries, but he does so silently.

The nurse keeps several cold compresses in a freezer in the front of the clinic. Eduardo snags one and another bottle of Advil – he's getting a little low – and starts the return trip.

So Eduardo had become fond of Mark, which had turned out to be a bad idea because Mark, with all the fencing and the puberty, had come back for his junior year less skinny, less scrawny, and with a certain air of confidence – or maybe entitlement would be a better term – that he never had before.

And now they're almost done with the semester and Eduardo is one hundred percent certain he's going to a special place in hell and it's all Mark's fault.

"Here," Eduardo says, shutting his office door behind himself and holding the compress out to Mark. The pills are gone from the desk. "Put this on your face."

Mark has his head leaned back, face turned toward the ceiling, and his eyes are closed. He looks like he's sleeping. Eduardo knows better.

"Mark."

Mark opens his eyes but doesn't otherwise move.

Shaking his head, Eduardo puts the compress on the injured cheek himself. Mark, unusually accommodating, angles his head toward Eduardo and scoots a little to the side. Eduardo takes the invitation for what it is and sits on the arm of the chair. "What was it this time?"

Mark turns his head further. Eduardo forces himself not to flinch away as Mark's lips brush his wrist. "What do you mean?" Mark asks.

Eduardo usually doesn't ask. When Mark does tell him, it's always a reiteration of the same things: he mouthed off, humiliated his tormentor, they retaliated with fists instead of words. Right now, though, Eduardo's desperate for a topic of conversation. "What made them hit you?"

"Do you really want to know?" Mark looks up at him.

Eduardo, too aware of their proximity, frowns in the direction of Mark's forehead and avoids his eyes. "Of course I do."

Giving an awkward little shrug, Mark says, "He didn't like catching me blowing his brother."

Eduardo drops the compress. As he leans down to get it, he says, shakily, "You shouldn't say things like that."

"I asked if you wanted to know," Mark says neutrally. Eduardo risks a glance at his face. "I'm not joking." He licks his bottom lip at the end, swollen – oh God, from more than getting punched – and no, he isn't, Eduardo knows he isn't.

"Jesus, Mark," Eduardo says, stepping away on shaky legs. "You can't tell me things like that."

"Yes, I can," Mark says, raising his head and tracking Eduardo's movement as he retreats behind his desk.

"No," Eduardo says, and he clears his throat, trying to focus. "No, if you tell me anything like that I'm supposed to report you." Sexual congress on school grounds is strictly forbidden.

"You won't," Mark says. "You like me more than you like anything else about this school."

Eduardo isn't going to touch that one. "It's against school policy," he insists. And – Mark, you shouldn't."

"Why not?" Mark says.

Opening, and eventually shutting, his mouth, Eduardo just shakes his head dumbly. He wants to say Mark is too young, but Mark won't hold with that and besides, he's sixteen, plenty of teenagers are sexually active at sixteen. Eduardo certainly was, so he's not going to say anything about that because he tries not to be a hypocrite – and not just because Mark always calls him out on it. Unfortunately, besides that, he doesn't really have anything prepared for this situation. He hadn't even been aware Mark was interested in any of his classmates. "How long have you been doing this?" he blurts.

Mark cocks his head. "You can't figure it out? What do you think the bullying was about?"

Eduardo opens and shuts his mouth again.

Mark watches him. "Wow," he says. "I've been giving you more credit for this mentor thing than you deserve."

"Hey!" Eduardo says, by reflex. "Just give me a second to adjust. I've never had to deal with this before."

"There's nothing to deal with," Mark says. "I know what I'm doing."

Eduardo slumps into his chair, putting a hand over his eyes. "Of course," he mutters.

"There's nothing wrong with it," Mark continues. "Just because I like blowing the lacrosse and hockey teams—"

" _Teams_?" Eduardo yelps, bolting upright, but Mark, the little asshole, is laughing at him.

"I can do what I want," Mark says.

Relaxing, Eduardo says, "Really, Mark. You should be more careful. You shouldn't hang out with whoever's doing this."

Mark rolls his eyes and stands, scooping his bag up. Eduardo doesn't know what he's said to upset him. "Promise I'm not in an abusive relationship. Great talk. See you next week."

\---

Unusually, it actually is a full week before Eduardo sees Mark again. And he has been looking. He's also been watching for boys who look like they're sneaking off, in case it's one of them Mark might be seeing. By the end of the week, he's caught four boys smoking pot and one defacing the restroom stalls, and he's still no closer to knowing what's actually going on in Mark's life.

When Mark slinks into Eduardo's office the next Friday, he's ten minutes late. He's also missing his tie, and his hair looks like he hasn't brushed it in a week. It's remarkably similar to what Eduardo's own sex hair looks like, which is probably why he recognizes it immediately. "Mark!" he snaps.

Mark smirks and refuses to say a word the entire meeting.

The week after that, Mark has red lips, lidded eyes, and a hickey on his neck.

Eduardo grits his teeth and tries another tactic. He avoids mentioning it until the end of the meeting, when he tries casually asking, "So do you have a boyfriend?"

The derisive snort Mark gives in answer makes Eduardo's throat tighten.

The fourth week, however, Mark isn't teasing or defiant. He's waiting outside Eduardo's door before Eduardo gets there, even though their appointment isn't for another half an hour. He looks up when Eduardo approaches, and his face is bruising again, and his lip is bleeding. Whatever happened, it happened very recently.

Eduardo bites back everything he wants to say and holds his office keys out to Mark. "I'll go get the ice. Unlock the top right drawer for the Tylenol."

Mark is sitting in his desk chair when he returns. Eduardo doesn't mind - it is more comfortable than the student chairs, and at least he's quiet and still. Eduardo sits on the desk and pulls the chair closer, so Mark is between his legs and Eduardo can get at his face. Mark barely slits his eyes open as Eduardo presses the compress into his hand.

He's not holding it up there for him again. He grabs Mark's wrist and yanks his hand up, forcing the compress against his cheek. Mark hisses, twisting away.

"Shut up," Eduardo snaps, and he sounds more angry than he meant to. "Stop it."

"Hurts," Mark says.

Ignoring him, Eduardo reaches around to the cup of ice he brought and pulls out a large chip, which he presses to the corner of Mark's mouth. Mark makes a small noise again but doesn't try to move away.

"You can't do this, Mark," Eduardo says. He manages to sound calmer. "You shouldn't sleep with people who hurt you."

"No," Mark says, but Eduardo can't tell if it's agreement. He pushes the ice chip harder against Mark's mouth and catches some of the water as it starts to drip down Mark's chin, swiping his thumb over it.

"There are plenty of people who will want to date you without any violence or gratuitous sex," Eduardo says quietly. Mark is watching him closely. Eduardo pulls the ice chip away and checks to see if his lip is still bleeding. It's not, but Eduardo grabs another piece and holds it against the cut anyway. "There are plenty of people who will want you."

Mark makes a quiet noise and pushes forward suddenly. His mouth lands, soft and off-center, against Eduardo's bottom lip. Eduardo would be lying if he said he hadn't seen this coming. Instead of freaking out and pushing Mark away, he stays calm and waits for Mark to pull back.

{

The first time Mark kissed Eduardo, Eduardo did freak out.

It was their second meeting of Mark’s junior year, but the sixth or seventh time they’d seen each other, because Mark kept dropping by Eduardo’s office – more than he ever had before. He stared at Eduardo every time they met, not the way he did when he was angry, but the way he did when he was trying to understand something. The scrutiny made Eduardo nervous, but he was glad to see Mark again nonetheless.

That second meeting Mark stared at Eduardo just as intently as usual. Eduardo continued to brush it off, but he got up to walk Mark to the door as he always did and Mark grabbed his wrist – Mark, who, in the two years Eduardo had known him, had never touched anyone before. Surprised, Eduardo blinked at him.

Mark leaned up and kissed him. Eduardo froze.

It was several seconds before Eduardo reacted. It was enough time for Mark to figure out something was wrong; he readjusted and kissed Eduardo more firmly.

Eduardo stumbled back a few steps, pulling his wrist from Mark's hold. "What?" he said dumbly.

"What do you think," Mark said.

"You—oh, shit," Eduardo said.

"I want you," Mark said bluntly.

"Oh, shit," Eduardo said again.

Mark narrowed his eyes and reached a hand toward Eduardo.

Eduardo caught it. "What are you doing? No!"

"Yes," Mark insisted.

"I'm your teacher!" Eduardo said, appalled. "This is completely immoral."

"You're not _my_ teacher," Mark said.

"I'm _a_ teacher," Eduardo said. Belatedly, he dropped Mark's hand. "I'm won't take advantage of my students!"

"You're not going to be taking advantage," Mark said stubbornly.

“Even if we weren't in our relative positions, I'm older than you are. You're a minor. And you’re completely inexperienced,” Eduardo said. “Have you even kissed anyone before?” He won’t do that – he can’t be responsible for corrupting a student, not even Mark, who, before today, he would’ve said was incorruptible.

“I'll learn,” Mark said. "Like you said, you are a teacher.”

"No, Mark," Eduardo said. He tried to be gentle. From Mark's expression, it was a failed effort.

Mark's eyes dropped and he looked away from Eduardo. "Yeah, whatever."

"Mark," Eduardo said uselessly as Mark stepped away. “It’ll be okay.”

"Yeah, whatever," Mark repeated, and he slammed Eduardo's door behind him as he left.

Everything probably _would’ve_ been okay, even, except then Mark refused to visit Eduardo. Eduardo didn’t see him the next week; he wasn’t surprised when Mark skipped their next meeting, but when Mark didn’t show up for the meeting after _that_ , Eduardo had to take matters into his own hands. They both would’ve gotten in trouble if someone found out they’d been missing their mandatory weekly meetings.

Not as much trouble as they would've been in if Eduardo had kissed back, of course, but still.

Eduardo finally resorted to seeking Mark out in the dorms. He knocked on Mark’s door a couple of times, but when there was no response he turned, prepared to give up, before he’d heard a loud rustling and muted murmurs from the room.

He knocked again, demanding Mark open the door; Mark, after much arguing on both their parts, did.

Eduardo saw Mark, rumpled and pissed off, with another boy Eduardo recognized vaguely from one of his classes lying on Mark’s bed, and from then on he was fucked. He never could get it out of his head.

As if he had sensed weakness, Mark resumed his frequent visits. Eduardo enjoyed his company, which didn’t help matters, and Mark was relentless. Eduardo never said yes, no matter how many times Mark tried, but Mark never listened to no.

}

When Mark leans away, he searches Eduardo's face.

“When are you going to stop doing that?” Eduardo asks quietly.

“Whenever you want me to,” Mark says.

“I’ve told you no before,” Eduardo says. “I’ve never told you anything but stop.”

“But you’ve never meant it,” Mark says. “And there’s no reason you should.”

“We can’t,” Eduardo says, just like he’s said every time before.

Mark slides the chair closer, the squeak of wheels jarringly loud. “Why?” he asks, just like he has every time before.

“It’d be wrong,” Eduardo says. “It’d be an abuse of my position.”

“Yeah, I’m really dependent on you,” Mark says. He puts his hands on Eduardo’s knees. “You’d just ruin me.”

“It’s against every rule at this school,” Eduardo says next. “It’s also illegal.”

Mark’s hands slide up Eduardo’s thighs. “Any sex on campus is prohibited,” he says, “and that hasn’t stopped me this far.”

“That makes it perfectly okay, then,” Eduardo says. He puts his hands over Mark’s but can’t quite make himself pry them off.

“I really like you,” Mark says quietly. “I know you like me.”

“Of course I do,” Eduardo says, tired. "That doesn't make it okay."

"Nothing is going to make it okay," Mark says. "That doesn't mean it's wrong."

Eduardo isn't going to bother arguing the illogic of that argument. He stares at Mark's determined expression, and down at his mouth, where the cut has started to scab over. The corner of Mark's mouth is still a little swollen. He takes a slow, shaky breath and wonders if he'll miss the part inside of himself that feels like it's breaking away. “You don't sleep with anyone else,” he says.

Mark frowns. "What?"

"You stop what you've been doing. You promise I'm the only one that touches you or I won't touch you at all," Eduardo says.

It's wrong. Eduardo knows it is. But Mark is his to take care of and he can take care of this. If he's going to be corrupt, at least he can keep Mark from whoever's been hitting him.

Mark sucks in a breath almost like a gasp.

Eduardo takes it as agreement and leans down to kiss him.

Mark kisses back eagerly, wrapping an arm around Eduardo's neck to pull him closer. Eduardo tries to be gentle, but Mark licks into his mouth and tugs harder, and Eduardo stumbles off the desk. He catches himself on the chair and it slides back. Mark growls.

Eduardo straightens, pulling Mark up with him. "This is a really inconvenient position."

"Well, unless you're suggesting we go back to one of our rooms—" Mark says.

Eduardo shoves him back against the desk and goes back to the kissing. Mark makes a quiet pained noise, and Eduardo is careful when he cups his face in apology.

Mark keeps pulling at him, snaking hand under Eduardo's jacket to grab a fistful of Eduardo's shirt. He pulls it free of Eduardo's pants, and he scratches his fingers over Eduardo's back.

Eduardo groans, pushing closer again, but Mark leans away. Breaking the kiss Eduardo moves down, kissing Mark's jaw and throat. Mark tilts his head back, implicit permission, but Eduardo can see him groping behind himself at the desk.

"What are you doing?" Eduardo asks, bemused. He licks behind Mark's ear, pleased when Mark shudders against him.

"Why do you have so much shit on your desk?" Mark demands.

Eduardo kisses his scowl. "Don't you dare shove everything to the floor."

"Yes, sir," Mark says, rolling his eyes.

Eduardo groans. "Don't call me that."

Mark smirks and half the contents of Eduardo's desk clatter to the floor as he sweeps the surface clear.

"Damn it, Mark," Eduardo says, but it's half-hearted at best and the rest of his complaint is lost as Mark goes back to sucking on his tongue.

Mark's hands go back to Eduardo's shirt to tug it free of his pants, but when his hand slides down to tug at Eduardo's belt, Eduardo has to help.

"How," Mark says, while Eduardo pulls his belt free, "were you supposed to fuck me over your desk if there isn't room for me on your desk?"

Eduardo drops his belt to the floor and steps between Mark's parted knees. He tugs Mark's tie loose and starts on the buttons of his shirt. "Unless you've got condoms and lube on you, I'm not fucking you on my desk."

Mark grumbles.

Eduardo laughs, feeling more than a little out of control. "It's bad enough we're having any sex at all in here, don't you think?"

Shrugging out of his shirt, Mark tosses it past Eduardo before yanking Eduardo back against him. He grinds against Eduardo's hip, hissing, and Eduardo bites his lip to stay quiet.

"Don't panic already," Mark says.

"Too late," Eduardo mumbles.

Mark snorts and yanks Eduardo's zipper down.

Eduardo doesn't think he's the only one panicking. He puts his hand over Mark's, which coincidentally pushes it harder against his cock. He grits his teeth and tries to ignore it. "Hey, slow down." He can feel Mark swallow when he kisses his neck again.

"I thought you'd be in a hurry," Mark says. "Less time for someone to come in and catch us."

"The door is locked," Eduardo says. He kisses the hollow of Mark's throat and opens Mark's pants.

"Is it?" Mark says blankly.

"I always lock it when you're here," Eduardo admits, embarrassed.

Mark smiles. He probably thinks that was some portent of what they're doing now, or wishful thinking on Eduardo's part; Eduardo is not going to disabuse him of the idea. He'd rather Mark think he was expecting them to fuck than admit he's just that jealous of Mark's time and attention even during his regular visits.

Mark stops smiling when Eduardo cups him through his boxers. "I thought you said to slow down," he says, choked.

"Take your pants off," Eduardo says.

He has to stand to do it, squirming off the desk and kicking them down. Eduardo hooks his fingers in the waistband of Mark's underwear and pulls those down, too.

"I'm at a disadvantage," Mark points out levelly, but his flush travels all the way down his neck.

Delighted, Eduardo says, "Yeah, you are."

And really, what was he thinking, this has been slow enough and there's been more than enough talking. He shoves Mark back onto the desk and kisses him deeply, circling a hand around his cock. Mark moans and thrusts forward, nearly falling off the desk.

Eduardo laughs a little and pushes him back. Mark gets a hand in between them to rub over Eduardo again, probably in retribution for the laughing. Eduardo presses his nose to Mark's red cheek and strokes him more deliberately.

Mark mouths at his ear, twisting his hips into Eduardo's hands. "Let me touch you." It comes out perilously close to a whine.

Swallowing hard, Eduardo fumbles with his free hand to get his pants down. Mark sort of helps, until Eduardo's cock is free enough for him to grab it. He strokes clumsily, squeezing too hard, and Eduardo isn't surprised when he slits his eyes open and says, "I'm not—I can't—"

Eduardo kisses him messily again. "You're a teenager, you're forgiven."

"Oh, fuck you," Mark moans, somewhat pathetically, as he comes over Eduardo's hand and his own belly.

Eduardo pulls away enough to watch him, his dark blurry eyes squeezing shut as he bites too hard on his lip.

"I don't know why I like you," Mark forces out a few seconds later.

Eduardo laughs, strained. He can't wait much longer and he drops his hand to his own cock, wrapping his fingers around Mark's and beginning to stroke properly.

"I want to blow you," Mark says breathlessly, licking his lips.

Eduardo shakes his head. "No, we'll just stick with—"

He breaks off with a gasp as Mark decides to take over again, speeding up. Mark keeps darting looks between their hands and Eduardo's face. Eduardo just watches him, gritting his teeth, but in the end he's not better than Mark, coming a couple minutes later with a noise that forces its way past his teeth.

He drops his forehead to Mark's shoulder after, catching hi breath. One of Mark's hands settles gently on his hair. Eduardo just hopes it isn't the messy one.

"So what's your excuse?" Mark says, after a few precious seconds of silence. His voice is scratchy. "You're not a teenager."

"Only by about three years," Eduardo protests into Mark's neck.

"Five," Mark counters, sounding self-satisfied. He snorts. "And you're eight years older than I am."

Eduardo winces. "Don't remind me."

Finally he lifts his head and kisses Mark's shoulder. "We need to clean up."

Mark looks at him drowsily, smugly pleased.

"I mean it," Eduardo says, trying and failing to recapture any suggestion of authority.

"You have to get off of me, first," Mark says.

Eduardo, forced to acknowledge the truth of that statement, groans. He manages to collapse backward into his chair on the second try. Mark sits up, legs still dangling off the edge of the desk. He looks completely unconcerned with the mess on his stomach. Eduardo looks at the red marks scattered across his skin and cringes.

Mark says, "My shirt is on the back of your chair."

Eduardo reaches over his shoulder, fishing around sightlessly until his fingers snag on it. He offers it to Mark.

Mark pulls it on, covering his horribly underage skin. Eduardo winces.

"So," Mark says, focusing intently on his buttons. "See you again next week?"

"No," Eduardo says.

Mark's head jerks up. He looks betrayed for an instant before his face goes blank. "You're going to back out this quickly?" he says. "I thought it'd take at least half an hour for the regret to set in."

"The regret set in before I kissed you," Eduardo says. "But that's not what I'm talking about. You're not going to come by once a week to have sex."

Mark looks wary. "So what then?"

"I meant what I said," Eduardo says. "While we're doing this, you stop fooling around with whoever you've been messing with." He reaches up, sliding his hand along Mark's jaw and letting his thumb press against the corner of his mouth, swollen further from their kissing.

If he's going to Hell, he's going to make sure he's earned it.

Mark starts to smile slowly. "Yeah," he says. "Okay."

"Okay," Eduardo repeats back, feeling helpless.

"For your information, though," Mark says, "I've been getting hit for reasons entirely unrelated to my sex life."

Eduardo drops his head back, groaning.

"I would've told you," Mark continues, "since you seemed so concerned, but—"

"But it was more convenient to use it against me," Eduardo finishes.

Mark shrugs.

"You're a fucking brat."

Mark snorts. Eduardo grabs the front of his shirt and pulls him down, kissing him once more firmly. "Get out of my office."


End file.
